Tag: Lone Wolf

“I have included analysis of Aurialonus done by an expert in aberrant psychological conditions, with an emphasis in megalomaniacal psychosis.”

“That’s a mouthful I’d not want to repeat,” Ray quipped, winking at the Admiral.

Greyling smirked, a chuckle escaping her lips. “Well, it took a little practice to get it right.” Her demeanor changed abruptly as she went back to business. “The intel information will be available to you and your team, Colonel. I have taken the liberty of including names of possible team members broken down by specialty. I fear it’s a rather short list,” she added quietly.

“So, are you blaming the robbery on this Orchid?” The D.A. asked with a disapproving sniff.

“No, sir. I did it.”

Jason’s lawyer gasped. Shaking his head, he voiced his objections, but his heart wasn’t in it.

“I planned and completed the robbery. What I did not do,” Jason spoke directly to the judge. “I did not kill those people. My plans, my methods, they’re always clean. I don’t hurt anyone and I don’t kill. I steal, Your Honor. I’m a thief, that’s a fact I don’t deny. But I never wanted anyone hurt. Orchid took the loot, shot me and left me for dead. She shot the others, killing all of them. She set me up to take the fall.”

“Tell me, Ana, what do you know of Señor Enriques who was here today?”

Ana hesitated to answer at first. She was always eager to impart what she knew of the local men. Be it good or bad, she held to the gossips’ truths of the town. She sighed deeply and seated herself at the table, another thing she had never done.

“Miss Gabriella, I’d not talk awful of anyone as you know.” She held up her hand. “I know I gossip, Miss, but that’s just for sport. I mean to really speak ill of someone with full knowledge and malicious intent and I just won’t do it.” She sighed again. “All I can say, Miss, is that one is better left unnoticed. Best to let sleeping dogs lie, Miss.”

“Kathleen, Brent didn’t spend a butt load of money on top of the line, professional grade heavies for you to tap it like a delicate flower. Smack the f**ker!” His fist shot out, hammering the bag so hard, it jumped slightly. The water in the bottom made the blow sound like a gong. “See that label?” He pointed to the name of the manufacturer, about head height for me. “Picture a face there. Picture the man who broke your heart and make him pay.”

I raised my hand to punch. Before I could strike, he pointed a few feet lower.

“His nuts are right there,” he said. “You have knees and feet as well as hands.”

“So what do you want from the four of us?” Wil wanted information and now. He was a man of immediate and direct action. If there was a job, he wanted to get started on it yesterday.

“You will be going in and freeing the royal family, and putting Aurialonus to the sword,” Greyling said dramatically.

“Wait a damn second,” Wil stood, leaning over Greyling’s desk. “You want the four of us, one of whom is a semi-invalid, to take out Aurialonus and his band of merry lunatics? Those people are religious fanatics, Elise. They think that Aurialonus is a god and that he and Jesus do lunch! I like playing the odds, baby, but not that long.”

Savage Heart is the much anticipated (and demanded) sequel to my historical romance, Indian Summer. Set in the early summer of 1740, Gabriella and Manuel are now happily (or maybe not so happily) married.

“Señora Enriques is feeling a bit under the weather. I need to check on her.” Manuel moved toward the steps to the house quickly.

“She sounded a might put out to me,” Willem replied, spitting in the dirt as he led the horses away to the barn.

“Yes,” Manuel said softly. “Yes, she was.” He paused on the steps. “Willem, did you hear everything?”

“Entire country heard, I’ll warrant, sir.”

“And you think I’m wrong?”

“Not my business to judge right nor wrong on your decisions, sir. I can agree or not as I choose, makes no difference. But I will say this, that girl loves ye above her own life. If ye go ‘gainst her wishes, ye might not have a home to come back to. She’d as likely leave ye as mind ye.”

Manuel hung his head, laughing sardonically. “You’ve put your finger upon it, Willem. As usual, you point out my foibles.”

“We all work to our strengths, sir,” the old Irishman said with a smirk. “Give her a big kiss, love her hard and maybe she’ll forgive ye. But don’t niver lie to her, sir, or I guarantee—that she’ll not forgive.”